I flutter my eyes open, meeting the bright light of the morning around me and the warmth of Octavius' body around mine. I sigh contentedly, snuggling into Octavius' grip around me. His arms are wrapped all the way around me, one hand near my chest, and one on my lower abdomen. He holds me as if he doesn't want me to disappear.

And I don't want to.

"Morning." He whispers against my neck, a warm shiver running down my spine at the feel of his cool breath on my neck.

"Morning, Octavius." At the mention of his name on my lips he tightens his grip on me impossibly, and I giggle slightly before I realize that I do in fact need to breath.

"Baby, my ribs aren't indestructible." I chuckle, wiggling against his hold gently.

"Mm..." He considers mockingly, and he loosens his hold ever so slightly. "You smell more like me now, I like it."

I flip around in his told, so my nose is lightly brushing his. I smile brightly and giggle.

"I could just go shower, and then I wouldn't smell like you anymore." I tease, lightly kissing this jaw.

"You wouldn't dare." He rubs his stubbly cheek along mine and down to my neck, as if he's trying to spread the smell of cinnamon and smoke all over me. I laugh loudly, the sound bubbling up in my chest and it feels so natural yet so new.

"I missed your laugh." He chuckles, smiling down at me, his pearly white teeth shining in the morning glare of the sun. My giggles subside, and I silently look up at him, simply gazing at his utter beauty.

"Octavius..." I whisper, my tone growing slightly more serious.

But he ignores me, wrapping a strand of my dark hair around his finger, watching as it falls through his fingers.

"I missed your hair, and how soft it is..." He runs his hand through my hair, and I close my eyes enjoying the sensation.

"I missed waking up with you beside me." He mutters, almost to himself. I open my eyes and I watch a frown grow on his lips.

"I'm sorry." I whisper hoarsely. He doesn't meet my gaze, as he continues to focus on my hair, so fascinated by the curls and waves.

"You needed time alone." He mutters emotionlessly. "I get it."

"I-I.." I stutter, and I cover my eyes with my hand and sigh. "I didn't know how to handle it...I felt like I was going insane."

"Why did you come back?" He chokes.

I frown at him, pulling back slightly.

"What do you mean?"

"You completely closed off the mind-link. You weren't listening to me, I didn't even know where you went, where you took Xander..."

"I wasn't leaving you, Octavius." I grab him around his neck, forcing him to finally look at me, and I see his eyes are shining with unshed tears. "I was in a downward spiral and I couldn't stand pulling you down into it...I wasn't thinking..."

"Alessandra, you could cut off your hair and pretend that you were a rabbit, and I would still hold you at night and tell you that you're the most perfect woman in the entire world."

And. I. Have. Melted.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, please forgive me." I whisper, running my fingers over his cheekbones, and he turns his head and kisses each of my fingers.

"I'll think of a way you can make it up to me." He winks, and I give him a relieved smile.

"Now," He says, grabbing me round the waist and flipping us, so that I am on his waist and he's beneath me. "We can finish this conversation later."

I laugh as he begins to kiss me over and over, short pecks that leave me aching and giddily frustrated.

"Stop. Pulling. Away." I say between kisses.

"Or. What?" He teases with each kiss, and I give him a light growl.

"This." And I pull away and flip myself over so that I'm laying on him, my back pressed against his chest.

"I'm practically crushing you." I say triumphantly.

"Sandra, sorry to break it to you, but you feel like a warm and very sexy pillow lying on top of me." I huff, and try to turn back around but he stops me, his hands gripping my waist.

"Hm, but I like this." His fingers trace along my stomach, painting pictures with his fingers and sending sparks along my bare skin.

"You know what we should do?" I whisper breathlessly as his fingers graze my thighs.

"Hm?" He responds, not really paying attention. I sigh, and manage to flip over so I'm leaning on his chest.

"I want to paint." I whisper, rubbing my nose against his.

"Who am I to say no to you?" He whispers, kissing me quickly.

"I like that answer." I smile, and wrap my arms around his neck, placing my head on his chest. His heart is steady and constant, and I lightly kiss his strong muscles.

"What are you going to paint?" He asks, bending his neck so he can look down at me. I look up at him, and I reach my fingers out, glancing over his eyelashes.

"I want to paint a forest in your lashes." I laugh softly, my focus shifting between his eyes. They're so deep and dark and blue that I think I could dive into them, and swim for years.

He doesn't respond, but a soft grin is plastered on his lips, closed and sweet. He looks so young, so innocent, so untouched.

"And you shall, Sandra." He whispers, and he lifts me into the air, a giggle bubbling through my lips. And then he pulls me down to his lips, kissing me again.

"You know, I finally decided how you can make it up to me."

"How?" I ask, my lips brushing against his lightly.

"I could really go for some ziti tonight."

And we laugh together at our own little shared memory.